


Time will bring us back together.

by Lingeringnights



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drug Use, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Martin is a sad bitch but what else is new, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, berlin/palermo, maybe some herlermo elements, whatif
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lingeringnights/pseuds/Lingeringnights
Summary: "I’m sure that one way or another, time will bring us back together."Martín had long given up the idea of ever meeting Andrés again, but he forgot about one important thing: Andrés was never wrong.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 50
Kudos: 109





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hola <33  
> This is the first chapter of what I hope to be a longfic one day. Please be patient with me, I'm a slow writer and an umotivated and depressed teen 75% of my time lol.  
> English isn't my first language, so please excuse any mistakes made along the way.
> 
> Warnings: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Swearing, throwing up, talks about sex ig

It had been a peaceful and well-rested morning until up this point. Funny enough Martín rarely ever experienced those anymore. On most days, the engineer would wake up at around midday, the sun hitting his face. Not in a beautiful and poetic kind of way, but in the "fuck-you-I-want-to-sleep" kind of way. His clothes would be sticking to his body. His sickly pale, skinny, and sweaty body. His vision would be blurred, his whole flat spinning in front of his eyes. His head would feel like someone ripped his brain out, pushed it through a grinder, and put it back in, hoping he wouldn't notice. His stomach would feel like it had been turned inside out and was having the shit beaten out of it. On those mornings, Martín would regret the night before. Though most of the time, he wouldn't even remember them. Maybe that added to the regret. With slow steps he would make his way to the toilet, kicking over empty alcohol bottles on the way. He would slide down on his knees. This was usually the moment he would find out if last night was worth the hangover or not. If his knees were sore, chances were high that he got to suck off some dude. The cold bathroom floor would somehow pull him back into reality a bit. Martín would be sick in the toilet and he would hate every minute of it. In his head, he would keep saying "this is the last time I'm drinking." and would chuckle to himself. Because every single day he would then get up and fix himself a coffee. An Irish one.

But this morning had not started like this. This morning he woke up at nine and when he opened his eyes, he smiled, because today, the room was not spinning. The only things moving that he noticed, were dust particles, swaying in the air, only visible in the direct sunlight. Calming. It was the first day in a very long time that Martín had woken up without a massive hangover. The only reason he didn't have one, was because the one he had the day before was so bad that Martín simply did not want to leave bed all day. So, Martín was pleasantly surprised, when he sat up and did not have to choke back down his vomit. Today felt different and he was going to use it.

Martín got up and made a few small and careful steps through his flat to his beloved record player. It hadn't been used in a while and when the engineer leaned down to blow away the layer of dust on it, he coughed. Over the years that he spent with Andrés his record collection had grown and grown and he was barely able to decide on one to listen to this day. When he finally did and started playing it, a satisfied smile appeared on his face. He turned and swayed the music and closed his eyes. He should not have done the latter, because as soon as he did, he saw Andrés in front of him. Dressed in a maroon suit, looking majestically powerful. His lips were pulled into a smug grin as he sang and danced to the music. Martín remembered exactly how it felt to hear him sing, to watch him dance. It felt like yesterday when it had been three years. The engineer was bent over his table, sketching, when the music had turned on. He hadn't even noticed Andrés arriving. When Martín looked up from his sketch, he felt the air being knocked out of his lungs. His friend was looking down at him so fondly as he started to sway to the music. Over the years the two had learned to read each other, but this look, this expression, was a precious gift every time, saved just for him. Andrés smiled and started singing along to the song. Martín didn't listen to the lyrics; he was too focused on how his best friend's voice gave him Goosebumps.   
Martín opened his eyes again, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Quickly it was wiped away as if it never happened. If no one saw him break, it's almost like he didn't right?

Ever since he and his friend parted, his sense of fashion had faded more and more. His closet was nearly empty most of the time anyway, his clothes splattered on the floor. Today, however, Martín picked out a maroon-colored button-up shirt from the back of the closet. He let his silk sleeping robe slip off his shoulder and put it on. It still fit, stretching a bit in just the right places. He put on tight black jeans and tucked in the shirt neatly. A little smile made its way on his lip when he looked at himself in the mirror. Andrés would have been proud of him. Because he had already dressed up anyway, Martín made the impulsive decision to get out to get his coffee for once. So, he snatched his keys and left his tiny flat. When he stepped outside, he remembered that it probably had been months since he had seen Madrid in the morning. The city was beautiful, more silent than usual. The apartment the engineer was currently living in was small, but in the center of the city and affordable. Martín wasn't very fond of silence, it made him think. It made him remember. Without realizing he started to wander through the city, his feet leading him to all kinds of beautiful places he didn't know existed just around the block. Birds were singing, the sky was blue and the air was fresh.

Martín froze dead in his tracks when he noticed the huge building in front of him. Towering him. The royal mint of Spain. He remembered standing right where he was standing now, just with Andrés at his side. "I prefer our plan.", the latter had said, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his brown eyes darting all over the building. "Me too. I like the thought of melting gold with you.", the engineer answered truthfully, and without thinking too much about it. His friend had looked at him and chuckled. Just as he had wanted to ask why he was laughing, Andrés turned and started to walk away. Now as Martín was standing there again, he found himself drawn to the building. He crossed the street and walked towards the building. His eyes glided over the parking lot, stopping on a school bus for just a split-second. Perfect. With a confident grin he stepped into the building, but quickly changed into acting stressed as he walked up to the information outlet. "Miss? Miss. Pardon. I'm a teacher of the class that's having a tour here right now. I didn't hear my alarm go off and must`ve overslept, silly me. Could you let me through, por favor?", he begged with a pleading voice. The woman didn't even bother looking up from her computer as she waved him by. With ease, Martín slipped through the sensors. Sergio didn't want to have him included in the planning of the royal mint heist back them, but he had snooped enough to know what angles to avoid in order not to be detected by any of the cameras. The engineer mindlessly walked through the corridors, connecting the things Andrés had told him about the plan with the building itself. Minutes passed, maybe hours.

Gunshots fell.

Martín flinched and immediately scanned the room. He was scared, but he wasn't one to run around screaming. However, the people now running around screaming made it hard to leave. And that's all he wanted to do right now. Leave, go home and sleep. Don't get involved in whatever this is. He was tense as he made his way through the crowd. His heartbeat was quick, his lungs suddenly too small for his breaths. Thoughts flashed through his brain, long-lasting enough to acknowledge them, but too quick to process them. "Who shot?"; "Where are the people that are supposed to control situations like this?"; "What would Andrés do?" ; "Is the royal mint under attack?"; "Am I in danger?"; "Do I care if I am?" – The last one stuck. Martíns hand was trembling as he felt the fear rise. 

The crowd yelped. They were cornered into the main hall by people wearing red jumpsuits and Dali masks. Martín was scared, but not panicky. He was on high alert and his eyes darted through the room, trying to find a way to escape. Scanning. Planning. Engineering. But it was hopeless. They were stuck. One of the attackers started yelling about a "little lamb". The term sounded familiar. She didn't fit in with the others, she wasn't wearing a red jumpsuit, but she was most definitely one of them. The two machine guns made that obvious. She ran off, cursing under her breath. The other attackers stood in the middle of the main hall. Six of them in red jumpsuits. Another woman without one. Calm and collected. Too calm, too calculated. The crowd started to grow silent in trembling fear. Weirdly enough the only thing calming Martín down were the dead stares of the Dali masks. Andrés loved the painter and in the past, they had often discussed his art together. Every time they discussed they'd get out their most expensive red wine and drink themselves tipsy. More often than not it was just Andrés talking about the paintings and Martín agreeing with everything just to see Andrés' smile and watch his eyes light up.

The first woman came back with a boy and a girl. They both looked frightened to the core. Somehow the girl looked familiar to Martín, but he simply couldn't place where he had seen her face before. The women then started to put black blindfolds over their eyes, possibly to hide the identity of the other attackers. His anxiety spiked when his vision was taken from him. He heard shuffling and assumed it was them taking the masks off.   
"First of all- "

It was like Martín had been hit in the stomach with a bowling ball. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. Andrés. Finally, the pieces inside his head started to fit together. The little Lamb, Miss Parker. The engineer would have realized way earlier if it hadn't been for his fear. This was Sergio's heist. This was Andrés' heist. And normally this should have eased Martíns anxiety, but no. He felt like throwing up. He felt like exploding. He hadn't had any contact with Andrés for over a year now. Not since what happened at the Monastery. Just hearing his voice made his blood both boil and freeze at the same time. He was filled with so much rage and so much sorrow. Hearing his voice made him want to scream and made him want to cry. But he kept quiet, he wanted to listen to Andrés' words. He needed to hear his voice again. "Buenos Dias.", he said, his voice strong and confident, yet cold and distant. Martín didn't want to, but he just couldn't help but smile. "I'm the one in charge." He absorbed every word. "And first off I want to offer my apologies." He had always admired Andrés ability to stay so collected and polite in hard times. Martín was a hothead by nature. Swearing, smashing things, Violence. "This really isn't a good way to end your week." He wouldn't have known, the days off the week blur when your life consists of nothing but alcohol and sucking dick. "But you're here as hostages." Two of Andrés' people started to collect phones and matching passwords. They were younger, gentler. Boring. You could tell from the way they spoke to one another. "If you obey, I guarantee you'll leave alive." After that Andrés started to somewhat comfort a lady that was violently sobbing. A guy in front of Martín, Arturo Roman, revealed his Martín to the two young men. 1234. He couldn't help but grin. The two men laughed at him. One of them had quite a unique laugh and the engineer hold back from laughing with them. Andrés was about to say something else, but Martín couldn't make it out as one of the men spoke again.  
"What are you laughing at?" Martín tensed up. Goosebumps made their way on his arm and neck. He didn't lift his head; he didn't say anything. He couldn't face Andrés right now. "Phone.", said the other one. The spoken to took a deep breath before quietly answering "I don't have a phone." It was the truth. Phones in his line of business were dangerous. Andrés taught him that. The first guy spoke again "Yeah right. Give me your phone or I will beat it out of you, understood?" All Martín could do was quietly repeat himself. He heard someone shuffle towards him, but then the second guy said something again "Denver. No." Right, Sergio wasn't a fan of real names. "What's your name?", the guy asked. He sounded nice and soft. Probably younger than Denver. Too gentle for this job. The engineer didn't want to answer, he didn't want to face Andrés like this. He could make up a fake name, but it would be of no use, at some point Andrés would notice him. "My name is Martín Berrote."

Silence. Deafening silence. All he heard was his blood rushing in his ears. Andrés had abruptly stopped talking and nobody dared to even move a muscle. The air was filled with thick tension. The two men whispered to each other. Martín could feel his heartbeat against his ribcage. His lungs were pounding because of the breath he was holding. After about a minute of complete silence, Andrés continued his sentence as if nothing had happened and moved on. Martín wanted nothing more than to take his blindfold off and look at his best friend's eyes.

He wanted Andrés to look into his eyes and show him what he did. He wanted him to see all the pain he caused. He wanted him to notice that the spark of life in his eyes has vanished. Andrés drained him that day at the Monastery. He gave him everything and more just to then take it all away again immediately. Martín still felt his lips on his. Still felt his strong and gentle hands cupping his face. Like the touch had burned itself into his skin. When Andrés had pulled away from their kiss, his hands lingering on his cheek, Martín had already known he had just lost everything. He had felt his world crashing around him. He barely remembered what happened next, his and Andrés' words blurring together. That evening, the love of Martín's life had left, looking powerful and beautiful to meet his wife. He probably hadn't spared a single thought on the man he left behind, sobbing. However, his "soulmate", as he had phrased it, had stopped crying soon after he left. Martín had felt numb and empty. His hands shook as he packed his things. "Te quiero, Martín." Repeated in his head over and over again. It meant nothing. They were nothing but empty words. Yet those words were the ones that hurt the most. For years the engineer wished he'd finally hear those words, but now, they were like knives twisting in his open wounds. Martín didn't own a lot of belongings; they had always considered most of the things at the Monastery as theirs. But that was alright. Andrés could keep the things they used to share. While collecting his stuff one by one, Martín's head was empty and clouded, as if his beloved friends had not only stolen his heart but his mind. Depriving him of making a single logical thought. After a while, he had gathered his things. One bag filled with the few items he considered his, one bag filled with nothing but Andrés' precious and expensive alcohol. With slow steps, Martín had left the Monastery, his home, behind. It wasn't until he had reached the city, that everything finally sank in. It had gotten dark outside and the streetlights cast an ugly yellow light on the streets. Tears had started to run down his face once again. The streets had been empty, only some loners wandering around aimlessly, just like him. Martín had tried so desperately to stop his hands from shaking. The surroundings had been quiet. Too quiet for his liking. Slowly but surely, Andrés' words had crawled back into his mind. Martín had broken down right there on the streets, balling, shaking, screaming. Now thinking back to it, he didn't remember much else. 

But "I'm sure that one way or another, time will bring us back together" stuck out because apparently, Andrés was right.

A phone rang. "Miss Monica Gaztambide, por favor?" One of the hostages stepped forward, her heels making a sound on the polished floor. He took the woman to the phone and mumbled something to her, but the Engineer couldn't make it out. She picked up the phone and explained that the factory is having technical issues. Probably at gunpoint, assumed Martín. Slowly but surely the two younger men walked away, talking quietly to each other. Martín flinched when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. The grip was gentle but firm. Securing him. The touch was familiar but like a far-off memory. "With me.", muttered Andrés under his breath and guided his friends through the crowd and up the stairs. With one quick gesture, he then removed his blindfold. Martín blinked at the sudden light and then immediately spun his head to look at Andrés' soaking in every feature. His face had gotten less gentle. His eyes had turned sharper and colder. The other one seemed to very actively avoid looking at him when he said "I'm Berlin here. Only Berlin. You choose a city too." Berlin looked tense. Martín couldn't help but smile a bit. Andrés and he had met in Berlin all those years ago. "Palermo.", he answered, without giving much thought to it. It shouldn't have felt so easy to slip back into a conversation with Andrés, it shouldn't have felt so fulfilling to hear him talk again, it shouldn't have been so pleasing to see his friends spare a small smirk as he answered. "Good choice." Palermo was a beautiful city in Italy. They had visited it together plenty of times.

They entered a small room. It looked like it was some kind of a living area for the employees of the mint. The hostages' phones were stuck to the wall, their names written out beneath them neatly. The women that dragged in "the little lamb" and two young men, he assumed they were the ones collecting the phones earlier, we`re already in the room, talking quietly until Martíns friend interrupted them. "Put on your vests and get ready to go out. As soon as you're ready, we`ll activate the alarm.", ordered Berlin. The others didn't seem to listen, they were staring at Palermo, all of them visibly confused. He was too, to be fair. "Decided to give us your phone now?", taunted the slightly taller of the young guys, he was the one with the weird laugh. Denver. His face was sharp and his grin goofy. "He doesn't have one. He's with me.", answered Andrés strictly before Martín even had a chance to do so himself. "What do you mean he's with you?", questioned the lady. "Later. We don't have time for this now.", spat Berlin. The other three simply nodded, not daring to poke any further. The red telephone, which was sitting on the desk in the middle of the room, rang, and Andrés answered it immediately. The red complemented the red of the jumpsuits. Martín heard a familiar voice say "Berlin, prepare to open the doors." – "S-", he began but was cut off by his friend forcefully, "Yes, Professor." He hung up. Denver and the other two, put on their vests and left the room and so did Andrés. Martín didn't have much choice but to follow suit. At the top of the staircase, his friend stopped abruptly and turned on his heels. For the first time, he looked at Martín. Time felt like it was frozen still. Andrés' facial structures grew softer. His brown eyes softly piercing through Martín's blue ones. "Stay here, por favor.", he said before rushing down the stairs to the hostages. And Martín obeyed as he had always done. And suddenly, rage rushed through him, boiling in his blood. Andrés looked at him, not to reassure that he's safe, not to let him know that things are going well, but to make him obey, to make him listen. After almost a year, all it took is a quick gaze to have Martín tied up around his fingers all over again. Martín wished nothing more than to have the strength follow Andrés, to tell him off, to yell at him, to address what he felt, to make a scene, but he simply didn't right now. Andrés told him to stay. So, he stayed.

The switch from Andrés to Berlin was immediate. Martín could see it in his eyes, in his body language and in the way he chose his words. He had studied his friend for years, almost a decade. He could read him from Miles away. At least he always thought he could. Berlin yelled at the hostages, his voice loud and dominant yet somehow reassuring and calm. He and his team pulled their Dali masks over their faces and stood in front of the giant door, waiting for the police to arrive. Martín knew this part of the plan; they would pretend to try to escape when really, they just needed more time to print their own. One hostage, the man with the 1234 pin, sneaked a peek out of his blindfold. Martín merely chuckled. "Naive." he thought. Just like he thought, Berlin caught on immediately. So, he did what he is best at, show dominance and power through his charm, humor, and blunt honesty. It was another feature that Martín admired about his best friend. He noticed that there were a lot of things he admired about him. Suddenly the lamb-lady ran outside. "Tokyo! Tokyo! It's too early!" yelled the other young man that was collecting phones and followed her outside. Martín heard shots and screaming, mainly from the hostages.

Martín couldn't make out what happened, but something went wrong. Very wrong. Denver sprinted outside and so did Berlin after looking up the stairs for a split second. "RIO!", Tokyo screamed. From then on it was impossible to make anything out. The hostages screamed and the team fired everything they had at the cops. Only when a body was dragged back inside, Martín finally understood. Rio had been shot. Once inside Tokyo dropped on her knees next to him. They didn't even notice the door closing again. Then Denver started to yell at them, and Martín realized another thing: Tokyo had shot a police officer. She broke one of the first rules.

Have the public on your side. Get nobody hurt.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too proud of this one, but I hope yall still like it!

Denver wouldn't stop yelling. It was unbearable. Martín could hear him scream at Tokyo from all the way down the hall, as he told her how badly she fucked up again and again as if she didn't understand that by now. Now and then he could also hear the other woman yell, she sounded less aggressive but pissed to the core as well. Berlin was still with the hostages, calming them down. Making them trust him. It worked. Of course, it did. Martín could tell by the way their scrunched-up faces softened. He could tell by the way they relaxed their tensed-up shoulders. He could tell by their gazes on him. Martín knew exactly how it felt. Melting into his lingering touches, falling for his charming smile, believing his shallow words. Berlin was the attacker, the kidnapper, the robber, yet no one seemed to be scared of his presence. They thought they could trust him, but they couldn't. Nobody could trust Berlin. Just Andrés. But the hostages didn't know about Andrés. Almost no one knew about him. Andrés who loves poetry, art, and music. Andrés who smiles a lot and enjoyed gentle lingering touches. They only knew about Berlin. When Andrés was a charming and funny yet egotistical asshole, then Berlin was like a knife. Dangerous. Someone you needed to be careful around. Someone that kept you on edge and made sure you stay alert at all times. Easily turned into a deadly weapon if needed. Martín had always felt special for being one of the few people that got to know, enjoy, and love Andrés. This close bond to his friend was a treasure, something so undeniable beautiful and valuable. And fragile, too. He had experienced first-hand that a minor mistake can ruin everything.

Falling in love, for example.

Martín was so lost in thoughts that he didn't even notice Berlin approaching him, but he snapped out of it when Andrés grabbed his arm harshly and pulled him with him. They walked down the hallway to the room they were in earlier, with the phones of the hostages. It seemed to be their meeting point. There was nothing gentle about his friend right now. Even though he maintained his blank expression the engineer knew he was tense, angry, disappointed, and stressed. The first fatal mistake has been made after less than 10 hours. Berlin pushed open the door. Rio, Denver, Tokyo, and the other woman were already in the room, arguing, but shut up as soon as Andrés entered. For the first time, the engineer got a proper look at Rio; his features were soft, his brows furrowed in worry and fear. He was visibly younger than the others. He was wounded and shaking. As soon as the two of them walked in, everybody had their eyes on them. It had always been like that. Whenever Andrés and he would enter a room, everything would go quiet. It was pleasant and gave them a feeling of power. Martín had always assumed it was Andrés' presence that simply immediately captured everyone around them. He couldn't blame them though, because he had caught himself not being able to finish a sentence after Andrés had entered the room more than once. However, this time it was different. They didn't go quiet because they admired Andrés aura, but because they feared Berlin’s. The tension in the air was thick. Martín took the opportunity to scan his surroundings. "They are taking the wounded cops away. Are the phones connected?", Berlin questioned, his voice calm and steady, not showing how frustrated Martín knew he felt. Rio took out an analog phone and plugged it in. "Who is he? Why is he here?", said the taller woman, pointing at the engineer. Her hair reached her collarbones. She was beautiful. He opened his mouth to answer but once again Andrés didn't allow him to do so himself. "He's with me, Nairobi. Drop any radio or wireless signal." One by one he collected the radios on them. Martín felt the curious stares on him. He stared right back. He couldn't blame them though; he technically was a hostage after all. "We're switching to analog.", Berlin added. Nairobi cleared her throat. "What do you mean he is with you?", she poked further. "Not now.", he spat back. Calmly he dropped the radios in the fish tank in the room, which Martín hadn't even taken note off yet, his eyes following them as they sank to the bottom. "Call the professor.", he then ordered without looking away. "Infront of him? No.", Tokyo answered, and stopped Rio before then adding "Why isn't he with the other hostages, Berlin?" He only sighed. "Because he is not a hostage. He is part of the team. I introduce to you; Palermo." Even Martín was taken back by that answer but maintained his neutral expression. Andrés taught him well over the years after all. Denver started laughing, his laugh was so contagious that the engineer almost laughed too. Berlin finally took his eyes off the fish and watched Denver unfazed. Deadly serious. "Berlin, what the fuck are you talking about?! He's not part of this!", Tokyo insisted. Andrés straightened up and turned to his team, but just as he was about to explain Martín took his chance to finally speak up for himself. "Berlin is the head of this heist. If he says I'm part of this, then I`m fucking part of this. Call the professor and he'll tell you himself." They all turned to look at him in surprise. Just for a second, he thought he may have done a mistake, but then he noticed Andrés' eyebrows raise and his lips curl up into the tiniest of smirks. He did well.

Rio called the professor and handed the phone to Andrés. Sergio almost immediately picked up. "What happened?", he asked concerned. "Change of plans.", Andrés answered. "What are you talking about Berlin? What did you do?", his voice grew louder. "I said change of plans. Rio, connect the cameras for the professor." Said the leader of the group and waved his friend closer. The kid immediately obeyed and so did Martín. He stepped closer to his friend to be able to talk to Sergio and glared up at the camera. For the first time in almost a year, he could smell Andrés' stupidly expensive cologne again that drove him crazy every time. It reminded Martín of the woods, but the musky smell was accompanied by bergamot and a hint of cinnamon. The engineer felt high and fought the urge to bury his face in Andrès' shoulder. Sergio's voice over the phone helped to resist "Martín?" He asked, his voice full of disbelief. "Palermo. Si.", the spoken to answered sharply. The squad stayed silent, not wanting to miss anything. The line stayed quiet for a while. Martín's gaze on the camera was filled with hatred and anger and he hoped Sergio could make that out through his screen. Because if it weren't for him Andrés wouldn't have left him that night. Andrés would have never addressed any of the feelings that he knew Martín had for him. Andrés broke him that night. Sergio did. After a long pause, Sergio cleared his throat and asked, "How?" – "He was among the hostages," Berlin stated, his eyes darting between on the others and then resting on the camera as well. More silence. "Welcome to the heist, Palermo.", he sighed. Tokyo gasped offended. "Professor, por favor! Don't be ridiculous?!", she voiced and got up. Already, Martín didn't like her, simply too dramatic. She starred at the camera, knowing Sergio was looking at her through his screen. "I-", he started, but stopped himself. Palermo chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "I trust him. And therefore, so do you." Martín and Andrés locked eyes for a second. They both knew it was a blatant lie. Sergio had never trusted him. But he was smart. He knew he had two only two options. He could release Palermo, but then he'd get cut off by the police and would be questioned. Too big of a risk. Or he could involve him in the plan. A big risk as well, but in the worst case the others could hopefully balance him out. In the end, what he said wouldn't have mattered anyway. Sergio knew his brother well enough to know he'd give everything to keep Martín close again. The others stayed put, silently accepting their fate. Not even Big-mouth-Tokyo dared to talk back. "Two cops were wounded.", Berlin stated and glared at her. "Who fired?", the younger brother questioned. "Tokyo.", answered Martín. "They shot at Rio and Tokyo shot back. It seems they are involved.", added Andrés, finishing his friend's sentence. Sergio took a sharp breath. "Let me talk to her.", he requested through gritted teeth.

Berlin handed over the telephone. Martín didn't really listen to what Tokyo was saying, he didn't really care. All he could think about was Andrés. Andrés, standing so close that his shoulders were brushing against his. Andrés, smiling amused as he listened to whatever Tokyo was going on about. Andrés, looking dangerously gorgeous in red. He felt his throat tighten and his heartbeat quicken. It was a very familiar feeling to him, yet it had been a while since he experienced it. He wanted to touch him so badly. Run his hands over his shoulders and up to his arms. Wrap an arm around him loosely. Play with his hair and pull on it lightly. Drag his lips along his jawline lightly. Kiss him again. Suddenly Andrés turned to look at him. Martín could almost hear his heart break all over again. His eyes were cold and his expression blank as if they were strangers. Tokyo rushed out of the room, Nairobi, and Denver following her. Andrés stepped away from Martín and walked to the vending machine in the corner of the room. Rio started shoving things into a bag. He seemed upset and Palermo now regretted not listening to what was happening. But he assumed Tokyo had said something hurtful to him. Not that he cared. Berlin poured himself a coffee and then turned around with a satisfied grin. He started to question the kid, play with him as if he weren't already hurting as if he didn't look like he was about to fall apart anyway. Berlin loved playing with the weak ones, it made him feel powerful, though it was nothing but cowardly. But Martín wasn't one to stand up to Andrés, he had never been, so he let it happen. 

Rio stared at Andrés. He looked scared. "I'm fucking with you.", Berlin explained, grinning slyly. He chuckled. "I would have banged her, too.", he then added. The engineer tensed up. He realized that Andrés was done playing with Rio. He'd moved on to Martín. Of course, he knew. The fact that Berlin likes women was not new to him. The 1%. The mitochondria. His desire. Women. And even though he knew already, it hurt. He felt like throwing up. "In fact, I might try to.", he continued. His eyes were on Rio still, but the engineer knew every word was directed at him. Pathetically, the kid talked back, explained that he and Tokyo were serious. "Look, kid…", he began, glaring up at Martín for just a split-second. "Take it from me. I've been married five times; you know what that means? Five times I believed in love." Andrés smirked ever so slightly. Too subtle for anyone but Martín to notice, who had spent hours looking at and analysing that face. He knew he'd hit the nail on the head.  
"Five times I believed in love." The engineer heard it in his head again and again, like a mantra. Five times. Five wives. Not 6 times. Not Martín. There had always been that tiny spark of hope in the back of his head, that maybe, just maybe, Andrés had meant some of the things he had said that night at the Monastery. That he actually felt for Martín, but Andrés took that spark and stomped on it. And he'd done it on purpose. Without another word, Martín left the room.

He remembered passing a bathroom on the way and decided to visit it. The door smashed shut with a loud thud behind him, as leaned against it. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to prevent tears from falling. Five times. A frustrated groan escaped his lips as the first tear rolled down his cheek. Te quiero, Martín. More tears. Pressure on his chest. Lifelessly he slipped onto the floor and buried his face between his knees as he quietly sobbed. It felt like an eternity until he was finally able to stop crying. However, it wasn't because he felt better, but because he felt drained and dry. The bathroom blurred in front of his eyes as he got up and for a second he thought he was going to pass out. With heavy steps, Martín made his way to one of the sinks and leaned on it. Gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. When he looked up at himself he couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Pathetic. His hair was sticking to his forehead. His eyes were puffy and red from crying, not to mention his eyebags. His lips were cracked. His skin was pale. He felt ashamed for facing Andrés looking like this. Stupidly handsome Andrés, looking unfairly good in that red jumpsuit. The engineer was furious. Furious about the fact how well his friend was doing without him. Furious that he couldn't move on. Furious that he still felt his hand on his cheek. Furious. Everything happened so quickly. Glass broke. Blood was dripping onto the floor. Martín looked at his shattered self in the broken mirror.

"You`re smarter than this.", that's what Andrés had said all those years back when his friend had smashed a mirror and he had to bandage his hand. "My smart engineer." The 'smart engineer' had been very drunk at the time. It was the first time Martín got to see 'Andrés'. Before that it had only been Saturn, Saturn was the Berlin of his time. Andrés soothed him, his strong hands worked carefully, and his lips were curled into a small smile. If Martín hadn't been in love with him before that already, now would have been the moment he would have fallen head over heels for him.

"What are you doing in here?!" The engineer hadn't even noticed the door being opened forcefully. The man that had stormed in was tall and sturdy. "Why are you not with the other hostages?", he said demanding, holding Martín at gunpoint. His accent was foreign, but Martín couldn't quite place it. "I'm not a hostage. I'm part of the plan, ask- ", he began but was cut off by the other one. "Come with me. I'm taking you back to the others." The smaller man groaned but obliged once the gun was pressed into his chest. Once outside the bathroom, another man joined them, holding the same gun. He was just as tall and sturdy. The two of them talked. Serbian. Noted Martín as he walked back to the hostages, making sure to wipe his eyes dry. "Denver, you let this one go.", said the first guy as he led the engineer down the stairs. Denver, who had been talking to a hostage, looked up and sighed "He's not a hostage. He's apparently part of the plan now." – "That's what I've been saying!", Martín rolled his eyes. "What? How? And why? Did the-", began the first guy again. "We talked to the professor. He knows him. We don't really know much more, but he wants us to trust him.", Denver explained. The big guy stayed quiet, so the engineer spoke, "The name's Palermo." He extended his hand for a shake but pulled it back again when he remembered the blood on it. "Helsinki. That's Oslo.", Helsinki nodded. "Come with me, I'll give you something for your hand.", he then added and walked back up the stairs again, Martín following him.

When they entered their meeting room, he was glad that Andrés and Rio had both already left. "Sit.", Helsinki ordered and opened a suitcase full of bandages. "It's nothing really.", Martín shrugged. "There's glass in it. Let me help.", the other one insisted and took his hand. Helsinki's hands were soft and gentle, which is surprising, considering their size. With tweezers, he started to pull out the shattered glass one by one. The two of them stayed silent throughout the process, but as Helsinki was wrapping Martín's hand in bandages he asked "How do you know the professor? Why does he just accept you here?" The engineer rolled his eyes and simply stated that personal questions weren't allowed. "But you could say we've got a shared contact.", he said bitterly. The door opened and Andrés walked in. Speaking of the devil, Martín thought. Berlin stepped closer to Helsinki and whispered something in his ear. The big guy nodded and left. 

"You need to pull yourself together, Palermo.", Berlin said. "If you want to survive this heist, then you need their respect. You need to be professional." His voice was cold and harsh. Martín didn't want to look at him. Didn't want to answer. Andrés took his hand and finished what Helsinki had started. For just a split-second his hand flinched at the touch. "I want you to survive.", he said, while putting away the first aid suitcase. The engineer looked up at his friend and tried to read of his face what that was supposed to mean. Andrés' gaze on him felt heavy and penetrating, but empty. Berlin turned to a bag and pulled out one of the red jumpsuits. "Change.", he ordered and handed it to his friend. Immediately Martín obeyed. The two of them had changed in front of each other countless times. "I'm giving you a fake gun because you've never used a real one." - “I can handle a gun.”, insisted the engineer. Andrés shoved one of the fake guns into Martín’s hands. He nodded. “Stay. I’ll be right back.” His friend left.

Soon after all of them, besides Rio, who was looking after Alison and Oslo, who was looking after the other hostages, were hurled around the red telephone and listened to Sergio negotiate with Inspector Murilla. The professor's voice was heavily edited to sound unrecognizable. “What are you wearing?”, he asked her. Everyone, including Andrés, chuckled softly and if it weren’t for him being a professional, Martín maybe would have melted right there and then. Sergio played his small game for a little while; a game of chess he knew he’d win. Then he hung up and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Martín glared up at his friend every now and then and suddenly Tokyo cleared her throat “I think we deserve to know, how you two know each other.” She said, crossing her arms in front of her chest like a pissed off toddler. “And why would you think that?”, Palermo questioned. If Andrés wanted a professional, he’d get a professional. “We all know each other. We’ve trained for this for months. And now you suddenly show up and we’re just supposed to trust you here?”, she answered. “Ai, Ai, Ai, Tokyo, that’s no way to treat a newcomer, is it?”, Berlin voiced, raising an eyebrow, and smirking smugly. “I have to agree with her, he doesn’t even know the plan.”, insisted Nairobi from across the table. Her feet were up on the table, much to Andrés’ displeasure. “Why do you assume that- “, Martín started but was interrupted by the leader of the heist “He’s the second in command. My right-hand man, if you will.” – “Por favor! Don’t be ridiculous!”, joined Denver. And just as Moscow was about to add something, Helsinki raised his voice and said “You all heard the professor. He trusts him. And we all trust the professor.” Martín gave him an appreciative nod and the big guy nodded back with a small smile on his lips. For now, the others decided to leave the topic alone. “Are you done yet?”, Berlin asked and got up. “We’ve got things to do after all.” He walked out of the room, knowing that everybody would follow him. And they did.

Andrés hopped off the last step of the stairs and loudly told the hostages to stand up. He clapped his hands, causing some of them to flinch. Martín almost felt ashamed for seeing that smirk that builds on Berlin's lips so attractive. Almost. “Take your masks off! Let’s behave.”, he ordered. The engineer studied the hostages’ surprised faces as they carefully lifted their blindfolds. Some of them flinched at the sudden brightness, others looked around panicky, others stared at the ground and didn’t dare to look into their faces. “Something has come up, but, despite the helicopters, they’re giving us a few hours of quiet time and you’ll be able to rest. In a few minutes, we’ll give you sleeping bags, water, and a sandwich.” He walked down the rows of hostages. “Oh, I’m going to ask you a favor. Take your clothes off.” Dramatic pause. Martín couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll give you red jumpsuits like ours, so you feel more comfortable.” He then continued innocently. Denver and Helsinki started handing out the jumpsuits. One of the hostages approached Andrés, but from where he was standing the Engineer couldn’t make out what he was saying, but Denver soon joined the argument. Berlin moved on and walked away, but the younger kidnapper suddenly had his gun pointed in the hostages face. Just now Martín recognized him as Arturo Roman. Denver offered him his gun, or better said, ordered him to take the gun. Martín wasn’t stupid, he noticed when something was a game or a threat. This? A game. Denver started counting to ten. Filled with fear Arturo pulled the trigger. The trigger of his fake gun. While the hostages were shaking in fear, Denver laughed and gave Arturo a smooch on the forehead. Helsinki now moved on to handing out fake guns, much like Martín’s. “Trust us and obey.” The engineer wondered if Andrés had stood in front of a mirror to prepare his lines. Once again Berlin ordered them to undress. With trembling lips and shaky knees, the hostages obliged.

They all stayed with the hostages. They made sure they ate and remained calm. But the Team was tense, and Martín had no idea why, because in the end, Tokyo was right, he didn’t know the plan. Berlin stepped next to him. “They are going to try to come in any minute now. They need to get the little lamb before sunrise. They’ll go in without hesitation which gives us a higher chance of winning the first battle.” He quietly explained and pointed at the hostages. “They are all wearing the same as us. They won’t be able to tell us apart. The little lamb is going to go live and tell the world exactly that.” The engineer was about to ask questions, but the telephone rang. Andrés broke out into an excited grin. His eyes were glistening with euphoria. “Duty calls.” And with that, he left Martín's side to go pick up the telephone. After a few words, he put it down again and turned to the hostages. “People! The time has come! Now’s the time to follow my orders!”, he announced loudly. He and the Team put the masks on. Quickly, Martín joined. “Follow us!”, yelled Andrés and led the hostages away from the main staircase and to the loading zone. They pulled their masks down when a drill made its way through the door. With a quickened breath Martín clung onto his fake gun hoping it would help him feel safer. It didn’t. 

Slowly a stereoscope made its way through the hole. Nobody dared to move. Martín heard his blood rushing in his ears. Seconds passed, dragged out slowly. Maybe minutes. But finally, the stereoscope was removed, and you could hear the intervention team shuffle away on the outside. Martín exhaled the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, leaned against the nearest wall, and closed his eyes.

And he didn’t open them until he felt a familiar grip on his shoulder. He hadn’t realized that everybody left. “We’re not done quite yet for today.”, said Andrés and pushed up his mask to reveal a grin. “The fun begins now, mi amigo.” Martín's heart swelled and his smile under the mask was his first genuine one in a while. Berlin basically dragged him back to the others. When they arrived, Nairobi was already dividing the hostages into workgroups. They walked off to the factory in a line, Nairobi in the front, bouncy and smiley, Tokyo at the end, grinning.

Everyone went to do their jobs, leaving Andrés and Martín


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna clear something up real quick. Yes, there is another fic with the concept of Martin being a hostage in the first heist. Yes, that fic was uploaded before mine. But no, I didn't steal the idea. I've not read the fic and I hadn't seen it before. I've talked to the author (cityofflights) and we're good, there is no need to dm me and tell me I'm copying and or that I'm toxic. Thank you.

“Follow me”, ordered Andrés and started walking up the stairs. Without hesitation, Martín obliged and followed his friend, taking two steps at a time, in order to keep up with him. Stupid short legs, he thought to himself. They walked down a hallway the engineer hadn’t seen before and entered an office. An amused smile made its way on his lips, Andrés had always wanted an office like this one. “Have a seat, please.”, requested Berlin and sat down on the other side of the desk as he watched his friends obeying as always. “You don’t know all the details of the plan, and I won’t be able to explain it all now, so you need to follow my lead, you trust me, right?”, Andrés looked into his eyes. Martín felt hypnotized immediately. “You know I do.”, he said, shrugging. “Good. For now, we are trying to buy time. With each hour that passes we print eight million dollars.” stated the other, leaning forward and grinning. The glint in his eyes showed his passion. "The hostages that aren't working right now will sleep in the main hall. We're looking after them in shifts, so we get to rest a bit too." He continued and started to bite on his pointer finger. Martín nodded and answered, "I could use some sleep." To prove his point, a small yawn escaped his lips. As if wiped off, Andrés grin dropped, and he leaned back. Just like a scanner, he looked him up and down. "I can tell.", he explained. The engineer raised an eyebrow "What are you saying?", he asked, crossed his legs on top of each other, and folded his hands in his lap. Again, Andrés kept quiet for a while and just looked at him, scrunching his nose ever so slightly. "You've let yourself go.", he finally revealed. His opponent chuckled in disbelief. "Yeah, I suppose you could say," his hand vaguely waved in the air "getting left by my only friend didn't sit right with me, Andrés.", he answered sarcastically. "Berlin. It's Berlin he-", Martín cut his friend of, "Yes. Of course. Berlin. The beautiful city I met said friend in." The other one's lips twisted into a half-smile. "Be a professional, Palermo, por favor. We can't afford fights about our past lives in here.", he said, shaking his head slightly. "Of course. Stay a fucking professional. Got it.", Martín hissed and got up, his jaw clenched. "I'll help the others with the factory.", he added and left, and he didn't need to turn around to know Andrés was grinning, silently laughing at him.

  
Martín ended up walking around the building aimlessly before actually joining the others. He needed to calm down. "Nairobi. Berlin requested that I come to help you guys.", he explained when he spotted the beautiful brunette. She looked up to him. "There isn't much to do, besides supervising, but I could use some company.", her smile was friendly, but her eyes showed other intentions. Nonetheless, Martín stayed and watched the money run by. It was quite satisfying. “How much have you- How much have we made?", he asked, looking at her for just a second before fixating on the assembly line of money rushing by again. "In the last 20 hours, we've printed about-", she looked down at the clipboard that Martín hadn't even noticed her holding and continued "52 Million Euros." Her chest puffed out, she lifted her chin ever so slightly and she was grinning from one ear to the other. When she looked over at him, she chuckled, and the engineer just now realized that his mouth was hanging open. Quickly he closed it, cleared his throat, and responded "Woah. That's a lot of money." Nairobi just nodded and started writing something down on her board. The other one took the opportunity of silence to look around. He watched the hostages work, noticed the teams grins, and listened to the machine work. 

  
"You and Berlin, are you family?" There it was. The other intention. "No. Berlin and I have a working relationship only, but I don't think we're supposed to ask each other personal questions. Are we, Nairobi?" He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively. "It's quite obvious that there is more behind you two though.", she insisted. "Por favor. Don't make assumptions about me.", Martín explained, "We work well together, that's all." - Just as Nairobi was about to poke further, Rio approached the two of them from behind. "Next person can take a nap now.", he said but interrupted himself with a small yawn. "I'll go if that's alright." requested the engineer and looked to the brunette. "Claro que si.", she shrugged. Martín thanked her and left, seeking the couch in their meeting room.

  
When Martín woke up again, he was being shaken by someone. Quickly he blinked away the sleep from his eyes and looked into Helsinki's face. "Buenos dias.", said the big guy with a wide grin. The engineer groaned quietly but sat up. "Berlin said three hours were enough for now.", the other one explained, straightened up again and peaked outside the window. "What's happening outside?", Martín furrowed his brows and stood up, for a second his vision went blurry, but he walked it off towards the window. "Berlin is outside with hostages. Explaining to the news that we don't plan to hurt them and all. That we need resources, like medication and food. But they are already heading back inside.", Helsinki explained and turned away from the window and fully closed the curtains again. "So, what's next on the plan?", the other one asked and sat down on the table in the room. "Well-", began Helsinki and handed him a bottle of water and a sandwich, "The Hostages will get some tasks. Some guys will be chosen to dig up a tunnel. A fake tunnel, to be exact." He shrugged. "Moscow is digging the real one at the other side of the mint.", he added. Gratefully, Martín bit into his Sandwich, not actually being able to remember when he had last eaten something with salad in it. After a few minutes of light banter between the two of them, Rio walked in with Alison Parker. "She needs to record a video, could you two leave the room, por favor?", He requested and sat the girl down on the couch. Helsinki merely nodded towards the door and left, knowing the engineer would follow. On their way out, Tokyo walked past them, eyeing Martín from head to toe. 

  
The two of them walked in comfortable silence for a bit. Martín looked Helsinki up and down. His big hands. His strong arms. His Tattoos that were poking out under the cuffed-up jumpsuit. His beard. Attractive to say the least. He may look like a tough guy, but he seemed rather soft and caring actually. "Tell me, how did you get involved in this?", the shorter man asked, stopping at the top of the stairs in the main hall and leaning against a wall, looking down at the hostages. Surprised, Helsinki stopped in front of him, raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "No personal questions allowed.", he said, mocking Martín’s Argentinian accent, and smirking teasingly. It made the other chuckle. A genuine chuckle. "The Professor picked me and Oslo up when we were released from prison.", he then added, shrugging. For a while, they were quiet again. "Berlin and I used to be close friends. That's why he tolerates me being here.", Martín revealed, after thinking about it for a few minutes and chewing on his lip anxiously. Startled, the Serbian turned to look at him. Clearly, he hadn't expected the other one to open up about this. "Friends? Berlin has friends?", Helsinki asked. The engineer's lips curled into an amused smirk. "Yeah. 3.", he explained, thinking back to the first time he had met Conrado, Guillermo, and Andrés.

  
He had met them as Mercury, Venus, and Saturn.

  
Martín was in Berlin at the time and a local bank had hired him to find out if there were any safety risks and if and how people could potentially break in if they wanted to. At this point in his life, the engineer was miserable. He had to hop from job to job just so he could afford his small flat and he had no friends. Every day he'd work his ass off, eat, and then pass out on his couch. On Fridays though, he'd go to the pub after work, much like on this specific Friday. With a drink in front of him, he sat at the bar, his bag hanging from the back of the stool. "Is this seat free?" When Martín looked up from his drink he had been pleasantly surprised to see an attractive man glaring at him with a small playful smirk on his lips, pointing at the barstool next to him. It was a nice change from the usual drunk fellas. "Of course." The engineer answered and dared to let his eyes wander up and down the stranger. He was wearing a dark green suit over a white button-up shirt with a black tie. Even though he had worn a hat as well, Martín was able to make out the black hair under it. If Martín had to have guessed he'd say that the man was just a few years older than him, five, maybe. The stranger looked ridiculously out of place in this shabby bar. Suddenly the man glare back at the engineer with a small but noticeable smug grin. "You look exhausted, did you just come from work?", he asked, pointing vaguely at the other one's bag. "Yes, my shift just ended 10 minutes ago. I'm an engineer.", Martín answered, explaining the blueprint that was poking out of his bag. Then he silently finished his drink, trying his best not to stare at the handsome stranger. "Two more of what this man had, thanks.", the guy said, making the other one look up in surprise. "What? Can't I invite a handsome engineer to have drink with me?", the man had raised an eyebrow and smirked. The Argentinian had chuckled lightly and answered, "It's Martín." He held out his hand for a shake. The stranger took it, brought it up to his mouth, and gave the back of it a light kiss, all without breaking eye-contact. "It's nice to meet you, Martín. My friends call me Saturn.", Saturn explained, grinning smugly, before letting the other one's hand go slowly. His fingers lingering in the touch. The engineer felt the heat in his cheeks. "Saturn, I take that's not your real name?”, Martín questioned and continued when his opponent shook his head a bit "How did you get the nickname then?" - "That's a story for another time.", Saturn explained, chuckling. The engineer didn't mind. The idea of 'another time' excited him.

  
The two of them had chatted for another hour before Saturn looked at his expensive-looking wristwatch and said, "I'm sorry that I have to leave you this soon, I'd love to continue this." He got up, paid the bartender, and smirked down at Martín "I'm sure we'll meet again, handsome engineer." As he walked past Martín, his hand caressed his back, causing him to get goosebumps. The Argentinian had groaned quietly to himself in regret of not getting the strangers number. When he looked up to the door, he could only make out a glimpse of him. Saturn was holding a blueprint. Quickly, Martín's gaze darted to his bag, only to find his own blueprint missing. Immediately he grabbed the bag and rushed to the door, quietly cursing through gritted teeth.

  
Once outside it had been easy to follow the thief. His noble and green attire made him stick out like a sore thumb in the average Friday-night-crowd. Saturn had turned into a small alley, Martín followed. "Saturn!", he yelled, making his opponent freeze in place and spin around to look at him surprised. "Martín.", he answered, smiling friendly still. "My plan- I need it, please, Saturn.", the other one explained. "They'll fire me if I lose all my progress and I need this job, I can barely afford my flat and basic needs.", he continued, almost begging. "Martín-", Saturn started but stopped mid-sentence. He stared at something behind the other one. Just as Martín was about to turn around he yelled: "Mercury, don't-!" Something hard hit the engineer's head and he dropped to the floor.

  
When Martín opened his eyes again, he heard Saturn speaking to somebody, but he didn't dare to open his eyes. "What are we going to do with him?", a man asked. "I can make him talk.", said another one. "No. I've got this, Mercury.", stated Saturn. "What do you mean you've got this?", questioned the first guy. "He'll help us. Without threats, without violence.", Saturn explained. The engineer tensed up. "Why would he?", the first guy asked again. "Just trust me, Venus. Give me a few minutes alone with him.", Saturn ordered. The other two stayed silent and Martín could hear them leave the room. "Feel free to open your eyes anytime.", offered the blueprint-thief. The other one tensed up even more, but he opened his eyes and looked around anxiously. They were in what seemed to be a cellar and Saturn was leaning against a pillar. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Martín. I'm sure your head must be hurting." he spoke. He was right, it was. The engineer tried his best to stay calm, but his shaky voice betrayed him as he asked "Who are you guys? What do you want from me?" Saturn merely chuckled and answered, "Of course. How rude of me; I'm Andrés. And we need your help robbing a bank."

  
Martín was convinced easily. Maybe too easily. But what did he have to lose? He was a lonely engineer and a very handsome and charming man was offering him a ton of money. Who was he to say no? That’s how Martín became Mars.

  
For a few days, the four of them worked closely on perfecting a plan to enter the bank. The engineer learned that the other two, Conrado and Guillermo as he found out, were very kind people, In their own ways, but they were. Both of them ridiculously tall next to him. Conrado was rather silent, only talked when talked to. Martín also got to know Sofia. Conrado's baby ferret, a delight. Guillermo wasn't as quiet, but he was a lot softer than his appearance made him seem to be. He talked about his six children and the woman in Bogotà that was currently carrying his seventh kid a lot. They pulled off the heist without any complications. Afterwards, rushed with adrenaline, Andrés hugged Martín for the first time. The engineer never wanted to let go. The four of them had been friends ever since.

  
"Stand up", Andrés’ dominant voice made Martín snap back into the current time. He walked into the hall, visibly tense and angry. The Argentinian looked at Helsinki, who looked just as startled and confused. Quickly, Martín walked down the stairs and stopped next to his friend. "What happened?", he questioned. "The police have footage from the inside.", Berlin stated quietly, glaring over the hostages, his brows furrowing. "Puta madre.", cursed Martín quietly. For a split second, Andrés smiled amused, but then he put on his blank expression again and started stepping through the hostages, eyeing them. "There is always a hero who believes he can save the others.", Berlin watched the hostages carefully. "Who thinks that no one will discover that he's plotting a strategy to contact the police. Bravo!", He continued and clapped for ‘the hero’ mockingly. "Congratulations, because one of you has done it. He recorded an image from inside and he sent it to the police. So, I would like to give him the chance to step forward, so all of you can thank him and while we're at it, give me the phone." None of the hostages reacted, so Andrés looked over and ordered "Palermo. Undress him." Immediately Martín stepped closer and pushed the hostage Berlin pointed at to the side and made him undress. His fake gun pointed at him. "It was one of you.", stated his friend. "I don't know who did it.", he continued. Just as Martín turned towards the hostages again, Berlin ordered Denver to undress a woman. Denver didn't look very happy about it, but he obliged. In front of Alison Parker, Andrés stopped. "You recorded a video in the phones room, right?", he questioned and unzipped her jumpsuit slowly. "Berlin, I'm taking her!", explained Denver and left with the woman, who was unable to breathe out of a sudden. Andrés, however, took no notice of it, he was busy shoving the jumpsuit of Alison's shoulders. Martín stepped next to him and put a hand on his shoulder "Berlin. It's enough.", he stated. Palermo didn't like women, he disliked them even, but he wasn't going to watch his friend undress a minor only to prove a point. With surprise, Andrés turned to look at him and opened his mouth to say something in response. "I know what happened.", Rio revealed. Neither Andrés nor Martín had noticed him approaching them. Without another word, Berlin dragged the kid away. Of course, Palermo followed. "She wanted to collect herself before sending the video, so I put the phone on the table. I got distracted... Then I saw Alison trying to delete the picture, and that was it! It was just a slip-up.", Rio tried to justify himself. "Idiota de mierda.", groaned Martín and slapped the back of Rio's head. Andrés merely put an arm around the kid and grinned. "What's wrong? Are you ADHD?", he chuckled, "Because if you are one of those kids, Palermo and I should be the first to know." - "I don't have a problem. Tokyo came in, all right? We exchanged words, and that's it. It won't happen again.", insisted Rio. Even though Berlin was smiling, Martín knew exactly what his friend was about to do. "Now I get it. Everything comes undone once again, to a heterosexual matter." spoke Palermo and walked into a huge storage room with the other two. "You can't imagine how much you remind me of myself.", revealed his friend, cupping the kid's face for a second. Martín merely grinned and leaned against a wall. Even though Andrés was mostly joking, he could definitely see similarities between the two of them. They were both smart, for instance. In very different ways, of course, but both were smart, nonetheless. They both appreciated older women, according to Andrés, and his story about him fucking a teacher that he was telling Rio at least. Martín scrunched up his nose in disgust as his friend told the kid about 'her giving him his mature flesh every time like it was his birthday'. The two of them walked a few more steps only to be faced by Helsinki. When the realization hit, Rio turned around and tried running away. Palermo simply stuck out his foot, making the kid trip right into Oslo, who picked him up with ease and then threw him onto the ground. "Of course-", started Berlin and dramatically turned around to face Rio, "there's is a small difference between your love story and mine." He took a fist of the kid's curls and yanked his head up to look at him from the floor. "Berlin wasn't involved in a hostage situation, risking the lives of his partners.", finished Martín and crossed his arms in front of his chest, watching Rio sob quietly. "Without a trace.", Andrés ordered, let go of the kid, and left without looking back. Martín had quick eye contact with Helsinki, his eyes asking, 'you got this covered?'. The Serbian nodded, so the Argentinian followed his friend, not even looking back when he heard Rio cry out in pain.

  
They walked back to the main hall in silence and Martín immediately panicked when he saw that the doors were being opened. Just as he was about to question what was happening, Berlin explained "Relax and put on your mask. It's medication and food from the outside." Palermo sighed relieved and obliged, watching what was going down from the top of the stairs. Everything went smoothly. They entered, they dropped off the resources, they left. The engineer turned to Berlin as soon as he removed his mask again. Andrés put a hand on his shoulder and grinned triumphantly. The moment was over way too quickly for Martín's liking. He'd give everything to freeze time in that moment, just so he could look into his friend's beautiful eyes and appreciate how they crinkle when he grins forever. Just so he could forever feel Andrés' hand on him. Berlin made his way down the stairs and picked apart the packages. Denver left with the medication and the others stayed back to help distribute the food to the hostages.

  
Andrés put his hand on Martín's hip for a short second and nodded towards the stairs. Together they walked up the stairs. "How long will this heist last?", asked the shorter one. "Around 10 days in total. A bit more maybe. We're aiming to stay as long as possible because therefore we'd be printing the highest amount of money possible as well." explained Berlin and grinned slightly. "How much are we talking about?", questioned the Argentinian, but before his friend was able to answer his question, Palermo poked him and pointed at Denver, who was currently discussing something with a hostage and waving his gun in her face. "What are you doing?", asked Andrés, approaching them. "I'm giving her the abortion pill.", answered Denver quickly. Too quickly. "What's wrong? She needs you to help her put it in her mouth with water?", mocked Martín and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Abortion is a private thing, right? Women decide, but not in public.", Denver explained and handed the blonde the pill. "Anyway. I'll think about it, till we get out of here.", she shifted on her legs, clearly tense and uncomfortable with how close Andrés was standing. The later scoffed."Fantastico.", he stated, with a sly smirk. "I'm glad you want to carry on with the pregnancy. Really. Now go back to the office with the rest.", Berlin continued. Martín held back a chuckle. He knew very well that Andrés wasn't fond of pregnancy, birth, or kids at all, because they had talked about it over wine countless of times, always agreeing on the fact that producing family is simply revolting. The hostage started making her way back to the office and Martín turned to speak to Denver, but suddenly a phone rang, and the woman froze.  
With raised eyebrows, Andrés turned to look at her. Then he looked at Denver in disbelief and walked to her. Gently, he turned her towards him and started humming as he opened her jumpsuit slowly. He stopped when he noticed that something was stuffed into her shirt and with a small grin, he pulled out the stack of money and handed it to Denver without breaking eye contact with her. "You were just at a bachelor party? Hm? Or were you on your way?", he questioned. The humming began again, and Berlin was just about so slip his hand into her pants when he looked over at Martín. "You take the phone. Wouldn't want to make Miss Gaztambide any more uncomfortable than necessary.", he ordered. Palermo stepped closer as the other one stepped back. "I'm as gay as they come. This most likely won't make you any less uncomfortable, but at least we're uncomfortable together.", he explained and slipped his hand into her pants, rolling his eyes slightly when Andrés began to hum again. Quickly he pulled the hidden phone out, stepped away from her, and handed Andrés the phone. The two of them and Denver formed a little circle a few steps away from Monica. "Denver, what's going to happen to our authority when she tells the others? Kill her.", Berlin ordered quietly. Denver was about to argue but Martín intervened "You heard him." Together the two leaders of the groups walked away, back to Andrés' office.

  
Martín had just opened the door when they heard a gunshot, followed by screams, followed by more gunshots. For a split second, the two of them looked at each other, before rushing towards Tokyo’s far off yells. "What the fuck are you doing?!", shouted Berlin as soon as he opened the door and walked in, Palermo right on his side. Tokyo was standing in the middle of the room, the two Serbians were standing in front of the second entrance, their guns pointing at her. "Helsinki, put the gun down." ordered the Argentinian, his eyes darting between Tokyo and Helsinki. Helsinki, however, didn't oblige. Out of nowhere, Rio came darting at him and Andrés, Tokyo yelled. At his hurt state, Martín could easily push Rio off. "Where do you think you're going? You've done enough for today.", he said and turned back to the others. "Helsinki. You heard him. Put it down.", Berlin ordered calmly. Finally, the big guy and his brother gave in, lowering their guns slowly. "And now what?", asked Andrés, watching Tokyo's every move. She yelled. Told Sergio all about her tragic love story. All while waving her gun around dramatically. "Your love story has sent our-", began the Professor, but Martín, who was simply fed up with her, cut him off, "Boohoo, my romantic life is so tragic and difficult! Get fucked, seriously.", he spat annoyed. She raised her gun at him. "Hijo de puta! You- “Sergio interrupted her calmly, "They have you and they also have Rio. The police know who you are. You're all over the news."

A small beeping sound signalled them that he'd hung up the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some details lol  
> Marseille - Conrado (bold and wise counsel) - Mercury (Mind, Communication, Reason)  
> Bogota - Guillermo (Strong-minded and protection) - Venus (Harmony, Protection, Kindness)  
> Andrés - Saturn (Responsibility, Structure, ambition)  
> Martín - Mars (Passion, Desire, Aggression)


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to let yall know that the next chapter will take a bit longer because I'm visiting a friend, HOWEVER, I will try my absolute best to get a new chapter scrambled together for my Oneshot-Book! (Check it out??) Anyway, you are amazing, beautiful and valid, thank you for being here and I hope you have a nice day/night/morning/evening! ENJOY:

After the situation had been deescalated, all of them went on their ways, returning to their jobs.

Andrés was standing in between the hostages in the centre of the main hall, while Martín leaned against a wall, watching him closely. The way he moved around them made Berlin look like a lion, always keeping an eye on his prey. However, Martín, however, knew that his friend was just a simple housecat. That kind of cat that is an asshole, but you love it deeply. That kind of cat that wants all of your affection, but then suddenly scratches you. That kind of cat that knocks things over, but then looks at you innocently so you can’t be mad. Andrés is that kind of cat. He even had that playful bastard glint in his eyes.

The hostages screamed when they heard a gunshot, some whimpered in fear and even Palermo flinched. Not Berlin though, he didn’t move an inch, almost as if he hadn’t heard it, only his lips curled into a tight smirk. He knew it was just Denver taking care of their problem after all. "Shh! Tranquillo, goddamn it! Tranquillo, keep it together or we won't make it out alive! Show a little courage!", yelled Nairobi in an attempt to shut up the hostages. A warm feeling made its way through Martín's body as he watched his friend. He was so calm and relaxed, he had everything under control and whenever Andrés had everything under control he'd reek with pride. It was incredibly contagious and made even the engineer grin a bit. Before meeting the other one, he would have felt bad for the woman, but over the years his priorities shifted.

But it wasn't in the way one might think, his love for Andrés didn't make him blind to good and evil, quite the opposite to be exact actually; Andrés helped Martín open his eyes. He taught him not to close them again as soon as he saw something small that he didn't like, and he showed him how to look beyond said detail to have a clear perspective on the much more important bigger picture. Palermo wasn't fond of murder, but it had to be done for all of their safeties.

It wasn't until there was another gunshot, followed by a woman screaming, that Andrés’ triumphant smirk faded and transformed into a curious and tense expression. He shot a glance in Martín's direction, his eyes ordering him to stay. Then he left. The second in command watched Berlin walk up the stairs slowly, and he'd be lying if he'd say he didn't take a glance at his bum too. Palermo scoffed, hating the feeling of being benched. For a while he hesitated, his blue eyes darting between Nairobi, Oslo, and the hostages before he decided to follow his friend, ignoring his orders. Once again he took two steps at a time up the stairs, to catch up with Andrés. Said merely raised an eyebrow and smirked when he noticed Martín next to him. "Ever so curious, hm?", he teased, walking towards the bathroom in which Palermo had shattered a mirror just a few hours prior. It felt like an eternity ago by now.

"Two gunshots.", stated Andrés as he entered the bathroom watching Denver as he pushed over the hostage's corpse onto her side in her own blood. "Do you have a bad aim or do blonds make you nervous?", grinned Martín, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and leaned against the doorframe. Even though he liked to be up to date on what was happening at all times, he didn't mind staying in the background and letting Berlin do most of the talking, only supporting him with snarky remarks when needed. That's how it has always been after all. With a pissed of expression, Denver stepped closer and answered the engineer through gritted teeth "It's not easy when she's begging you not to kill her." Then he turned his attention to his leader "Why didn't you kill her?!", hissed Denver and forcefully grabbed his opponent by his jumpsuit. Protective, Martín stepped closer, but not intervening quite yet. "You're a damn asshole!", continued the youngest of the three. "Watch your mouth.", spat Palermo, but Berlin merely raised his hand, telling him that everything is alright, all while not breaking eye contact with the other. "You don't want blood on your hands, so you use mine.", accused Denver. Unimpressed Andrés watched his every move and Martín had to hold back a scoff. His friend had never been scared to get his hands dirty. "If you touch me again, you're a dead man.", stated the leader, still unfazed by Denver's action, his voice dripping with seriousness and dominance. The engineer definitely shouldn't have thought of it as attractive and hot as he did. Without giving his colleague time to answer, Berlin stepped past him, his eyes now fixated on the lifeless body on the floor and explained where Denver should put it. "And afterwards, you can clean this up.", added Martín with a sly smirk as his friend had walked out past him. Like a loyal puppy, he then followed.

"You don't need to defend me, Palermo.", stated Andrés as they were walking back to the others. "Hm?", questioned the other one, not sure what his friend was referring to. "Denver called me an asshole and you wanted to step in.", explained Berlin and stopped mid hallway to look at the other. Finally catching on, Martín answered, "He doesn't have the right to talk to you like that." - With a small chuckle, Andrés leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes scanned his opponent again. "If you're going to tell me that I've let myself go again, I'll-", began the short of the two, preparing himself to get pissed, and leaned against the wall on the opposite of his friend, who cut him off "No. That's not what I wanted to say." Vaguely Martín motioned him to continue with his hand. "You shouldn't defend me from your truth.", revealed Berlin, staring into the other one's eyes. Any other given moment, Palermo would've appreciated the gesture, but right now he was simply annoyed and frustrated. He groaned and answered, "My head hurts, don't pull your poetic shit on me right now, what do you mean?" Andrés laughed softly, an angelic sound Martín thought he would never get to hear again, and leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes now scanning the pattern on the ceiling. At that moment, he was incredibly thankful for the support of the wall, because his knees had just turned very wobbly and he wasn't sure if he hadn't just melted right there and then. "What I'm saying is that you agree with Denver and you, therefore, shouldn't defend me. You think I am an asshole.", explained his friend, now looking back right at him, his beautiful brown eyes curious. Suddenly Palermo's mouth went dry and he shifted under the other one's intense gaze, looking everywhere but back at him. Of course, he thought Andrés was an asshole, after everything he had done to him, how could he not? But he couldn't say it, his body simply wouldn't let him. "You do, don't you?", insisted Berlin.

Martín's eyes met Andrés's. The tension between them felt like a fog that blurred everything besides the two of them. Immediately the leader knew exactly what the other one wanted to say but couldn't.

"You're an asshole." - "How could you do this to me?" - "I missed you." - "I hate you." - "You're a coward." - "I still want you." - "I hate that I still love you."

It almost felt like a split-second of a telepathic connection between the two of them. The moment ended as abruptly as it had started when Martín tore his eyes away only to stare at the ground again. He had also felt the connection. He knew Andrés knew and he felt incredibly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing red. The two of them stayed silent for a while, neither of them daring to move or even take a breath that was too loud, but then Berlin pushed himself off the wall and straightened up. "We should get back to the others. They're probably going to want an explanation.", he explained after clearing his throat, his voice calm and collected, as if nothing had just happened. Palermo merely nodded and pushed himself off the wall as well. While walking back, however, Andrés spoke once again "Withdrawal." His shorter friend looked up at him confused. "Your headache. It's most likely caused by alcohol withdrawal.", elaborated the other. "Por favor, don't be ridiculous.", answered Martín and rolled his eyes. "Tell me then, when was the last time you didn’t drink for over 24 hours?", insisted Berlin and kept walking even when his friend stopped to stare at him. "I'm not some alcoholic from the streets, Andrés.", spat the short one after he had caught onto his friend again. "It’s Berlin. And I know, but I mean it: when was the last time you haven't touched a bottle for the entirety of a day?", the other one repeated himself and just scoffed when Palermo had seemingly decided to simply ignore his question.

"The shots you heard came from an encounter with the police.", explained Andrés, while he stepped through the rows of hostages. Martín, who was watching from the top of the stair chuckled quietly, adoring how easily the lies slipped of his friend's tongue. "Caused by a hostage who didn't follow my rules and tried to contact this number.", he continued and played a tropical ringtone on the phone Palermo had taken out of that woman's panties. He cringed at the memory. Still holding the phone and stepping around the rows, he watched the hostages for any signs of a reaction to the catchy tune. "And I wonder if I have Miss Gaztambide's phone, whose is this? Does anybody recognize this ringtone?", taunted the leader of the heist. Visibly tense, even from where Martín was standing, Tokyo approached Andrés and asked him what happened. "Che?", he questioned, acting clueless. "We all heard the gunshots. I'm asking you what the hell happened.", she spat back. Berlin glared down on her, forcefully took her arm, and pulled her with him. "Not here.", he answered quietly. She whispered something back, but the Argentinian couldn't make it out.

He dragged her to their meeting room, Nairobi, Rio, and Martín following. "She had a phone. What did you expect me to do?", explained Andrés after entering the room. "Scare her, damn it, not kill her! Cut her ear off, like in the movies.", hissed Nairobi, clearly pissed. "If she had told the police, who and where we are you'd be the one dead right now!", justified Martín, vaguely pointing at Tokyo. "You're on his fucking side? What did the professor think, putting two psychopaths in charge?!", yelled the tall brunette frustrated. "Who shot her?", questioned Tokyo, glaring at Berlin, her eyes full of hatred. "Denver.", revealed Palermo, leaning against the table in the middle of the room. "He's too hotheaded.", continued Andrés, looking up at his friend for a second. "The professor said there wouldn't be any blood, it's a rule!" insisted Rio frustrated. "There's been a change in who controls the hostages. Got it?", explained Berlin, looking at each member of his team. "Tranquillo. The public likes us, that won't change.", added Martín, smiling at how well he and his friend worked together. "We'll be gone by the time they realize someone's missing. We'll be very far away.", finished Andrés, smiling confidently as well. "Does the Professor know? Hm? Does he know you two broke the number one rule?", questioned Tokyo. Palermo chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Who are you to talk? Misses-almost-killed-a-cop-because-my-child-boyfriend-was-shot.", he mocked, dramatically putting his hand against his forehead. "The Professor has to know.", insisted Rio and picked up the red telephone. The line beeped for a second, but Andrés simply took the phone out of his hand and hushed him, before setting it back down. Tokyo slammed her gun on the table and told Rio to call the professor, all without breaking eye-contact with Berlin. At that moment, Martín wished Andrés had trusted him to handle a real gun, but since he didn't he just stood there, watching Berlin be his calm self. Of course, Rio obeyed. The phone rang, but Sergio didn't answer. Frustrated the kid slammed the phone down, causing both the leader of the heist and the second one in command to break out in small triumph smirks. "You can't control everything all day. You have to eat, sleep, go to the bathroom. That's why in here, I'm in charge-", Andrés interrupted himself and looked over at Martín, grinning, before continuing "We are. To escape, we'll have to be professionals." Moscow entered, clearly riled up and asked "What the hell is going on? I could hear you outside." Everyone turned to look at him and Tokyo answered: "Berlin and Palermo ordered a hostage's death." Martín really disliked her. "Who did it?", he questioned. "Your son.", she revealed. Moscow froze in his tracks, before turning around and leaving, looking for his son. Andrés groaned frustrated and jogged after him, the Argentinian right behind him.

"Moscow, stop.", ordered Berlin. But the other one didn't obey, so the leader did the only thing he knew how to if someone disobeys him, he threatened him. With one solid movement, he pulled his gun out of his gun holster and points it at Moscow. "Last time. Go back to your post.", he insisted through gritted teeth. Martín groaned quietly and scoffed, putting his hand on Andrés's shoulder. "Berlin. Don't be stupid. We need him.", he reassured. His friend looked at him over his shoulder and slowly lowered his gun, nodding. With shaking hands Moscow then opened the bathroom door. The floor was covered in blood and Denver had stripped down to his boxers, washing himself in the sink. All the colour drained from the father's face as he spoke "Son... Did you kill that woman?" The two of them stared at each other and Denver merely nodded, looking terrified. "Dad...", he began, but stopped himself, watching his father whose breath had sped up and was leaning against one of the toilet stalls. Berlin and Palermo stepped closer as Moscow slid down the wall while repeating that he can't breathe. "Dad, Dad, what is it? What is it?", Denver asked, the panic in his voice obvious as he kneeled down next to his father. "Is it a heart attack?", he questioned again, looking up at the two leaders desperately. "It's a panic attack.", they answered at the same time. Their eyes met for a second, Martín had taken care of Andrés’ panic attacks many times. Then they got to work, helping Denver and Moscow, both being fairly used to this after all these years. With Helsinki's help, they put him to rest.

Andrés then left to his office to do whatever he does in his office and Martín joined the others. He could feel their judgemental and hateful glares on him, especially Tokyo's, but he couldn't care less, he had never really been a people pleaser. As he handed out the food to the hostages though, Rio approached him and bluntly asked: "Why do you want to impress Berlin?" Startled and taken back, Palermo turned to look at him. "Che?", he asked. "I want to know why you want to impress Berlin so badly.", the kid repeated. "I don't know what you are referring to.", answered the older one and handed an old lady her noodles. "You keep trying to impress Berlin, playing into things he likes. Why?", Rio elaborated, collecting Trash. "Kid, you're seeing things-", began Palermo but stopped himself when he spotted Moscow walking down the stairs with way too much determination for someone who has just awoken from a panic attack nap. "Moscow.", said Helsinki, but the other one didn't answer. He didn't even look at him, but just kept walking, ignoring everybody's shouts. Quickly, Denver's dad made his way to the main entrance, not looking back at the others or Helsinki, who was rushing after him. Still in shock, Tokyo, Rio, and Martín just stood there when Denver walked in, questioning what was happening. "I don't know.", Tokyo answered truthfully, even though it was basically impossible to understand her over Helsinki's yelling. "Don't open the door!", he ordered, but Moscow didn't listen, pushing the button anyway. "Moscow!", Helsinki yelled again, now pointing his gun at him. Denver spun around, now analysing the situation as quickly as possible. His father had just opened the door. He was standing in front of it. He was not wearing his mask.

Finally, everyone got into action. Helsinki and Oslo pulled their masks over their faces, covering Moscow from behind with raised weapons, yelling. Tokyo got the hostages under control by hysterically yelling at them, waving her gun at them, and telling them to get onto the ground. Martín froze, trying to find a way to help, while Denver simply launched himself at his father, bringing him onto the ground with him. "Cover your face, cover your face!", repeated the son again and again, like it was a mantra. The two of them struggled on the floor, Moscow trying to get killed, Denver trying to save him. "No, Dad!", insisted the kid, pulling his father close. "I have to get out.", resisted the older one. He repeated himself again and again. "What for?", questioned Denver, still struggling with his dad, clinging onto his jumpsuit. "It's my fault. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have killed anyone!", complained Moscow. Martín didn't hear more of their argument, because he had quickly pulled his mask into his face and sprinted to the button that managed the door, pressing it and sighing relieved when the figures on the ground finally stopped struggling and the door had closed with a loud thud. Still, in a haze, Martín pulled off his mask as he felt his heartbeat thudding in his ear loudly. "We'll go out, Dad. Outside, so you can get some air.", reassured Denver. "I need air.", agreed Moscow. "Si. Si.", nodded his son.

"It's not up for debate, Palermo. You are going to go outside with them. You are dizzy, you have a headache, you are going through withdrawal. You need fresh air.", ordered Andrés and handed his friend his mask. "I'm not going through fucking withdrawal.", Martín groaned in response, holding a hand against his aching head. "Go.", Andrés basically shoved his friend up the stairs to Denver. But Moscow's kid didn't even want to look at him anyway. "I'm asking you this as a personal favour, not as a thief.", explained Denver to the hostages that were supposed to go onto the roof with them. Martín grinned, holding back a laugh. It sounded pathetic. "I want you to put your masks and hoods on and go out on the roof without doing anything stupid. Just for ten minutes, all right? Go out, get some air, and go back in. All right?", he elaborated, looking at the hostages. Martín then started to hand out the masks, or tried to at least, because the first hostage immediately stopped him. He recognized him as Arturo. "What do you want?", the hostage asked before resuming "To distract the cops?" Palermo merely chuckled and answered, "The police have got plenty of distractions right now, so how about you shut the fuck up and don't scare the others with your bullshit?" Then Martín moved on, handing every hostage a mask. They took it silently, as they should, but little Arturo had more to say "The bait. They want us to be the bait." The schoolkid next to him, who was about twice of the man's height asked Arturo what he meant. "They'll throw us to the lions while they escape.", explained Arturo, sounding way too sure of himself. Martín groaned and was about to move back to him and tell him off when Denver took over. "We're going out of kindness. One of our partners needs some air and I won't tell you again", he spat, clearly very defensive over his father, before moving onto the next hostages. "What kind of world do we live in? Nobody is willing to do anything for anyone anymore. Our partner had an anxiety attack and you're only thinking about the bait. It's all good. Everything will be fine because we're coming with you!", added Martín, very pissed off by now. "Why did he have an attack?", questioned Arturo again. "It was because of the gunshots, right? It was because of the damn gunshots. Who did you kill?", he ranted, sounding accusing towards the end. Without any hesitations, Denver pulled out his gun and pulled back the safety and ordered Arturo to open his mouth. The hostage didn't oblige. "Arturo open your fucking mouth, open it.", added Palermo, with a lot more force. As soon as he obeyed, Denver pushed the gun into his mouth. "Now, raise your left arm if you're going to keep busting my balls. If you're going to shut up, raise your right hand.", ordered Denver. Mockingly Martín cut in "I don't trust you to have the intellect to know where left and right is so let me help you, Arturito. This-", he pointed at Arturo's left hand "is your left hand. Therefore, this-", he pointed at the other arm "is your right hand, go it?", He spoke to him like a little child, chuckling when he looked into his terrified eyes. Very slowly, Arturo lifted his right hand. "Good.", answered Denver.

"Everyone put their masks and hoods on!", yelled Martín before doing so himself, stepping out on the roof and enjoying the cool air that hit him. Slowly but surely all the hostages tapped outside anxiously. He would have been lying if he had said he wasn't scared as well, he wasn't stupid after all, he knew how many snipers were probably pointed at him right that second. But nobody was as anxious as Moscow. His breath was very sped up and he shifted around on his feet. "Tranquillo, Dad. Look at this beautiful day.", reassured Denver. His father nodded and mumbled a "Si." - "Look at the sun. Just breathe and relax.", Denver continued. If Palermo hadn't had the first-hand experience of a panic attack and how to soothe someone who suffers from them, he would have said this was a cliché stereotype, but in all honesty, grounding and relaxing was what used to help Andrés the most as well. The three of them and the hostages walked around the roof for a bit, not only enjoying the fresh air, but also the view.

Martín didn't hear how the argument started, but somehow Arturo must have heard Denver and Moscow talking about the dead Monica Gaztambide. He didn't know much about the hostages, besides what Andrés told him here and there, but from the way Arturo freaked out he'd guess Monica was either his girlfriend, wife or lover. "What did you do to her?", he exclaimed loudly. "Step back.", ordered Denver calmly. "What the hell did you do?! Where is Monica?!", Arturo yelled and shoved Denver against Moscow. Palermo tried stepping in between the two of them, to deescalate the situation, but the hostage wouldn't stop basically launching himself at his colleague. "You killed Monica goddamnit! She was innocent!", yelled Arturo, waving his fake weapon around. The other hostages were tense and didn't know what to do, while Moscow, Denver and Martín simply tried to stop Arturo from getting them all killed. "Get on your knees.", hissed the oldest of the three. Immediately Martín understood, obliged, and dropped onto his knees, probably bruising them, but he was used to it at this point. "Che?", asked Denver obliviously, but Palermo simply yanked him onto his knees as well. "She was pregnant!", yelled Arturo. Finally, even Denver seemed to understand, because he was the first one to lift his hands above his head, the other two copying him immediately. "Don't mess with me! Get up! I'm talking to you!", continued Arturo. Martín felt like throwing up. He was dizzy and the yelling all started to blur together. He basically felt the snipers target on him and started shivering uncontrollably. "There are snipers!", yelled Moscow, making all the other hostages shift in panic and join them kneeling on the floor. Not Arturo though, he was still standing, arguing, and waving his fake gun around.

Everything happened at the same time as if layered. The shot, the hit, the scream, the fall, the mask slipping off his face. The police had just shot an innocent hostage.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long, I've been quite busy and then sad lol. Anyway, enjoy! I'm not sure if I like how this chapter turned out, so I'd be very thankful feedback in the comments <3

Time was passing in slow motion and at highspeed at the same time. Arturo's body dropped to the floor as if slowed down, but the blood spurting out of his shoulder spread around him so quickly. The sound of the hostage's screams took forever to finally register in Martín's brain, but his own quiet panicked yelp had slipped his lips in the matter of a split-second. Without hesitation, Denver started shaking Arturo, as if he were trying to wake him up from a comma. However, Arturo was clearly awake because he was yelling and groaning in pain loudly. "Stop that, you idiot! What good is that going to do?!", hissed Moscow and slapped the back of his son's head before pressing a cloth onto the bullet wound. The engineer wasn't sure where it had come from, but he was glad at least one of them had common sense and was able to use it in a stressful situation. "Push that down, Arturito. You need to apply a lot of pressure.", ordered Martín and moved closer. "Denver, help me carry him inside.", he continued bossing around and lifted the bank's director by his legs, meanwhile Denver and Moscow carefully lifted the upper half of his body, trying to not hurt him any further or move the bullet inside of his shoulder. He was heavy and moved around a lot, but the three of them managed to get to the door at the same time as it was forcefully yanked open by Helsinki from the inside, who had probably been alert by the gunshot. "What happened-", he began but interrupted himself with a bunch of Serbian swearwords when he saw what exactly just happened. "Come here! Go! Run!," he hurried the hostages inside and pulled off his colleagues' masks as they passed him. Once everybody was inside the building, the door was thrown shut and the four thieves escorted Arturo down the stairs as quickly and as safely as possible. "Quick! Move. Move!", yelled Moscow only to get insulted back by Arturo. 

Carrying him down the stairs proved to be a lot harder than expected because Arturito wouldn't stop shifting around, trying to reduce the pain but only causing more and the hostages were rushing them from behind, all of them fulfilled with fear. Out of nowhere, Martín started laughing. Laughing hysterically for no apparent reason. "What the fuck is so funny?!", yelled Denver. Martín wished he could give him a good answer, but he couldn't, because nothing funny was happening and the engineer most certainly didn't feel like laughing either. He was pumped full of adrenaline and shock but laughing just came to him naturally at that moment. So, he laughed, laughed like a maniac until tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. Laughed like he hadn't in months. Out of nowhere Tokyo appeared, her face stressed and mad. "What the fuck have you done?!", she yelled accusingly, pointing at Martín, blaming him, for some unknown reason. He was just about to spit back a snarky remark that he didn't do anything, but Tokyo ran off again, swearing under her breath and called out for Berlin. Helsinki in the meanwhile must have informed Rio, because just as Denver, Moscow, Martín, and the hostages arrived in the main room, the kid and the Serbian rolled in a table. The three of them put him down on it and out of nowhere Tokyo appeared on their side again, this time, with a big med-kit. "Water! Water", she yelled and started unpacking her utensils. Rio, Denver, Martín, and Tokyo got to work quickly. Giving Arturo morphine here, cleaning his wound with alcohol, making Arturo yelp out in pain loudly there. It all went by in a massive blur after that, the engineer didn't know how much time had passed, or who yelled what, but suddenly, Arturito pulled him close by his jumpsuit with all the force he still had left. "I need to talk to my wife, please. I need to talk to my wife.", he begged and sobbed. He didn't get a response, because for now Martín was mostly focused on helping the others keeping the man alive. Unimportant stuff like family could always come after that. Helsinki seemed the most experienced with treating wounds, and even though he was curious, Martín decided to not ask any questions. He only stepped back to give the Serbian the space he needed to work, assuming he was more in the way than he was helping. The engineer himself had never dealt with anything as serious as a bullet wound, but he thought back to the time he had taken care of Andrés’ stab wound.

It had happened just 2 weeks after they moved into the Monastery together. Martín had been sitting at his desk, sketching on his plans when he heard the door and Andrés steps on the stone floor. Immediately he sensed something off. His friend's footsteps, which usually sounded clear, due to his confident strut and even left a small echo in the big empty hallway, now sounded like his feet were just barely leaving the floor or being dragged over it completely. "Andrés?", asked the engineer and leaned back on his stool to have a better view down the hallway. It was like the air had been knocked out of his lungs completely and his mouth went dry when he spotted him. His friend was stumbling down the hallway with a small cocky smirk. A small cocky smirk that really shouldn't have been there, considering he was shirtless and pressing his usually white, now blood-red, button-up shirt that he had been wearing against a wound in his shoulder, which was causing blood to run down his naked chest. "Andrés!", yelped Martín and jumped up from his chair, knocking it over in the process. With quick steps, he hurried to his friend and brought him to the couch to lie down. "What the fuck happened?!", he exclaimed, rushing into the room next door to get his whiskey and a med-kit. He almost tripped over one of the many boxes they still hadn't unpacked. "I stole someone's wristwatch. He and his friends didn't seem to like that all that much.", Andrés shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. Martín kneeled on the floor in front of the couch and carefully removed the shirt, putting it aside, not caring that the blood is most likely going to stain their expensive carpet. Fortunately, the wound wasn't too deep, so after Marti had applied enough pressure, he was able to clean the wound with the whiskey. Andrés merely bit on his lip, took the bottle out of his hand when he was done and took a big sip. In silence, Martín then stitched his friend together and wrapped his shoulder in bandages, aware of the intense gaze on him. Once done, he looked up, his blue eyes meeting Andrés’ brown ones. "You're a hero! You saved my life!", he teased overdramatically, his lips curling into the familiar slightly crooked smile. "And you are an idiot.", answered Martín, smirking, and shaking his head. "What do you need a wristwatch for anyway? You already have one." The other one chuckled and sat up, his friend watched him, taking small glances off his slightly hairy chest. "It is a present for you actually", explained Andrés, chuckling lightly. In confusion, Martín furrowed his brows. "Don't tell me you forgot, mi amigo.", exclaimed his friend, now laughing even more. "It's your birthday?", revealed the other. The engineer's eyes lit up in surprise, he had in fact completely forgotten about that. At home, his mother had never really cared about his birthdays, so Martín learned to treat them like any other day. "The watch is beautiful. I want you to have it.", Andrés took the watch out of his pocket. He was right, it was absolutely beautiful. "Happy Birthday, Martín." A wide smile spread on the engineer's face.

His fingers traced the broken glass of the watch on his wrist. It had stopped working months ago, when Martín smashed it on the floor repeatedly, trying to get the anger out of his system when he was drunk on cheap vodka. However, he couldn't bring it over himself to get rid of it, so he still wore it every day. Somehow he saw himself in that clock. Once beautiful and glamorous, now broken, and dysfunctional, but yet not too broken enough to fully get rid of. Maybe that's the Andrés de Fonollosa effect. Martín was pulled out of his spiral of depressing thoughts when he heard the familiar steps of Andrés, making his way down the stairs, a phone in his hand. Someone must have told him Arturo wants to speak to his wife, Martín assumed it was the kid. "Where the hell were you?!", hissed Tokyo through gritted teeth. "Talking to the Professor and it's not like any of you informed me what of what happened.", he explained, calmly. "We're a bit busy here.", stated Helsinki under his breath as he helped Tokyo tightly wrapping the bank's director, making the engineer chuckle. Moscow and Denver had left, they were nowhere to be seen anymore, Martín didn't even see them leave. Arturo seemed stable, for now, but he'd need a medical team soon. "What's your wife's name?", Berlin asked the wounded, turning the phone between his hands. "Laura.", he answered, short-breathed. Martín visibly flinched at the mention of that name. Andrés third wife was called Laura, she was the worst one out of the four Martín got to know by far. The constant fighting was unbearable, and Martín even remembered witnessing the night they broke up. He'd been sitting in the kitchen and watched them fight in the living room, completely unaware of his presence.

"You are impossible, Andrés! You don't care anything about anything, do you?!", yelled Laura, her tight black curls falling out of place as she angrily whipped around to glare at her husband full of hate and doubt. "Of course, I care, Laura!", his friend almost sounded as if he was begging for mercy, his voice slightly shaky. They had been out for dinner; it was their first anniversary. A new record, not to mention. Martín stayed home alone that night and got tipsy on his friend's most expensive wines. Andrés’ was dressed in the shiny olive-green suit that Martín adored so much on him and Laura was wearing an elegant maroon-red dress. Even if he didn't like her, the engineer had to admit that she was objectively, judged by a very, very gay man, the second most beautiful of Andre's wife's. "No, you don't. And you never did! You don't even listen to me anymore these days!", she spat, crossing her arms in front of his chest. "Of course I listen to you!", insisted Andrés, stepping closer to his wife, caressing her arms and shoulders gently. "Do you even love me anymore?", she asked, quieter now. She still looked furious, but now she was playing the pity-card and hiding behind a beautiful looking pout. "Yes, Laura. Of course, I love you, mi amor.", answered Andrés and took her small hands in his. If Martín could leave without attracting any attention, he would, but since he couldn't he just shrunk deeper into the seat, wishing he could just disappear. He felt like sobbing, but this too could attract unwanted attention, so he didn't. "And you're sure you want to spend the rest of your life with me?", she poked further. Martín knew exactly where this was going, and he didn't like it and he knew his best friend wasn't going to like it either. Andrés’ nodded, like the little lovesick puppy he was. "Then let me move in with you and finally throw that engineer out.", she requested, pulling herself out of her husband's touch. "You can't be serious.", he whispered. "Of course I am! He's a grown man, he'll survive without you! I am your wife, for fucks sake!", she got louder again. Andrés and Martín both knew that he really wouldn't survive. "I'm not throwing my best friend out!", stated his friend, shaking his head in disbelief. For a while, the two of them were silent, they just stared at each other. "Is he? Is he your best friend or is he more by now?", she then spat, not breaking eye-contact. "What are you talking about? He's my best friend, I've known him for years.", answered Andrés, calmly. Laura merely scoffed and rolled her eyes. "What am I doing wrong?", he questioned and crossed his arms in front of his chest, defensively. "Don't make me compete with Martín Berrote.", his wife requested. A small smile appeared on Andrés’ lips, but the engineer could tell he was furious on the inside. The way his jaw, his fists and his shoulders tensed up were clear proof of it. "I'm not making you compete with him. Simply, because you cannot and never will be able to compete with him.", he dragged out the words slowly, taunting her. "Get out.", he then added calmly. "Andrés’-", Laura stammered as she realized her plan had completely backfired. "Get. Out.", he now said, a lot harsher. Tears started streaming down his wife's face as she stumbled out the door, yelling insults at her soon to be ex-husband. An exhausted sigh escaped his friend's lips as he shut the door and spun around, making direct eye-contact with Martín. For a while, the two of them just stared at each other, tears slowly but surely filling Andrés’ eyes. But he just put on a small casual smile and shrugged.  
The two of them got ridiculously drunk that night and ended up falling asleep on the kitchen floor, leaning against each other.

"That's a nice name. You can talk to her now.", continued Andrés. "Wives are meant for moments like this. They are comforting.", he continued, looking down tauntingly at Arturo. Martín didn't want to hear this, he tried to blend it out, but it had no use when he was so addicted to the sound of Andrés’ voice. "No one remembers their wife when they are out drinking, but when you have a problem, an accident, or are just afraid of something things change." It made Martín think. We're Andrés’ wifes just comfort? Was he afraid of something? "Or are you thinking of your secretary?", teased Berlin with a wide grin and set the phone down next to Arturo's head. "You are?", chuckled Andrés, raising his eyebrows. "No, who has time to think about lovers, ", he said, glaring up at Martín. It was one of those rare moments when the engineer had simply no idea what was going on in the other one's head. Normally he could read him and his actions, but his eyes were full of an emotion Martín had never seen in Andrés’ eyes like that before. For just a second Martín thought it might have been regret, but he quickly discarded that idea. It couldn't be, could it? Martín felt vulnerable under Andrés’ gaze in a way he didn't like, so he fidgeted with his jumpsuit and looked away, breaking the intimate eye-contact. Berlin wanted to continue speaking but Arturito cut in rudely "Save me the speech.", he hissed. ‘Idiot’ thought Martín. Without a second of hesitation, the thief pulled his gun on the poor man and pressed it into his wound. "If you say anything stupid, I'll shoot you for your wife to hear.", explained Andrés. "Got it?!", he hissed, digging the gun deeper. Arturo didn't answer because he couldn't. He was wincing and groaning in pain. With slight disgust, Berlin then wiped off his gun on his jumpsuit and put it back in his holster. The coughs coming from the wounded one sounded painful, but Martín couldn't bring himself to care. He was still going over what the words his friend had said in his head and tried to decipher what it all was supposed to mean. Andrés took the phone and turned it on to call the wife of the bank director, Laura, before handing it to Arturo. 

"Hello, Darling.", he mumbled into the speaker. "Arturo, how are you, Darling?", said a feminine voice from the other side of the line. "Good. I'm okay. It was a clean shot. I think.", he answered, making Martín chuckle. A bullet in his shoulder, but good. "They're letting some surgeons in", explained Arturo. "I know.", answered his wife. "I've been thinking about you, and everything we've done wrong.", she continued, her voice breaking now and then. "Don't think about that, Darling.", insisted her husband. "Not now. Besides, it's my own fault. I know we're not okay, and we haven't been for a while. I've been distant from you and the kids, and I've been selfish. But I promise all that will change. I promise. You've been saying for ten years how much you want to see your sister in Australia and maybe the kids can learn some English and see the kangaroos. It's the first thing we'll do when I get out. I owe you that much. I'll do it for you because I love you. And all the wasted years chasing, thinking the only important thing was money and status when the only thing that matters is you. It's always been you, from the day I met you.", he reassured her, smiling slightly while Berlin was leaning over him, listening, watching. "I swear there are times that I try remembering that day. And I wonder what the hell you saw in me, Monica." While Arturo's smile slowly faded as he realized, Andrés’ face lit up in joy, surprise, and spitefulness. Shocked he turned to look at Palermo. Martín wasn't fond of cheating, he was way too loyal, but the way Andrés looked at him, like a little child that had just unwrapped a new toy, made him break out in a grin as well. "Laura.", added Arturo quickly, in a failed attempt to save everything he had just broken. Andrés pulled away, throwing his head back in a silent laugh. For a while, it was silent on the other side of the line. "Just think about getting out of there, just think about that. Te quiero. Te quiero, mi amor.", said Laura quietly, her voice sounding strained over the phone.

Andrés took the phone, hung up and turned it off, chuckling lightly. "The balls on you, Arturo.", he taunted, almost prideful. "Your secretary, with a child on the way.", He handed the phone to Rio. "Laura, waiting for you with the kids. And you, surrounded by cash. You're a legend." He chuckled. He probably would have teased him further if it weren't for Nairobi walking in. "Berlin, Palermo. The doctors are outside." Andrés merely grinned down at Arturo and excused himself before following Nairobi. "Everyone knows what they have to do?", he asked her. "They do. Of course, they do.", she answered. "Are you ready?", she asked loudly, so the hostages around her could all hear her. They all either said yes or nodded in agreement. "They're ready.", she stated calmly. "Berlin. I don't know what I have to do.", stated Martín quietly, making sure only Andrés could hear him properly. "Right. Just follow my lead, seem confident even though you aren't.", answered his friend. For that answer alone, Martín would love to knock Andrés out. "Mercedes, are you ready?", he had stopped next to some woman. She nodded. "Yes, sir." - "I want her out of here.", ordered the Leader of the heist, vaguely pointing at Alison Parker, the little Lamb. "Rio, take her to an office", he added. Rio obeyed, as he always does. "Nairobi.", he requested. "Let's put our masks on and follow me. Rock 'n' Roll!", she ordered and left with the hostages, also pulling her own Dali mask into her face. 

Martín was surprised when Andrés rather than following her walked into the opposite direction and up the stairs. Quickly, he followed and looked up at his smirking friend. "He called his wife Monica.", he chuckled like an immature child hearing a penis joke. "He did.", agreed Palermo, a bit confused why he brought it up again. "That's why marriages never work.", elaborated Berlin, making his shorter friend scoff. "What about Tatiana, aren't you married anymore?", questioned Martín. It wouldn't surprise him if they weren't anymore since the average Andrés de Fonollosa relation-ship span was 7 months and 3 days. He had calculated it after Andrés’ fourth wife, Annabelle. However, Martín somehow had wished for Tatiana to stay longer. He liked that genius redhead. "I divorced her.", stated Berlin, shrugging. "When was that?", asked Palermo, curious as he had always been. For a while, he didn't get an answer and they had almost reached their goal location, the meeting room, when Martín wanted to repeat his question. He didn't have to though. "I divorced her the night we parted.", revealed Andrés and entered the room. Of course, Martín now had even more questions.

'Why did you leave her?' - 'Did you tell her?' - 'Did you leave her because of what happened?' - 'Does she know?' - 'Did you leave her because of me?' - 'Did she blame me?' - 'Did you blame me?'

But Berlin was smart. A smart bastard. So he entered just as he dropped that information, knowing Palermo wouldn't poke any further for now because Tokyo and Helsinki were present too and even though he did have questions, he didn't feel like unfolding their dramatic past with each other in front of their colleagues. Just as they entered the room the red phone rang. Andrés stepped to the telephone and took the call. Martín couldn't make out much of what Sergio was saying, but Andrés answers were clear. "Which one?" - "I do. We're on it." and "I know." Berlin hung up and turned to the other three. "Gentlemen, the man with the glasses is with the police.", he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. The other two started smiling too, which deeply confused Martín. That sounded like a bad thing. However, he assumed it was just part of Sergio's plan. He wasn't on the best terms with him, but Martín had to admit that he was simply a genius. "We're planting a Trojan Horse.", revealed Andrés, chuckling at his friend's puzzled expression. Martín just nodded. "Let's go.", said Tokyo and pulled her mask into her face. When the other two joined her, Martín did too. The four of them walked downstairs and into the main room.  
The two surgeons and the undercover officer were kneeling on the floor, their hands on their heads. "All metal objects in this bin.", ordered Andrés. As Tokyo walked past them with a white container, he added "Glasses, watches, if you have weapons or anything that gives off a signal, I urge you to place it in here. We're tracing every signal." Martín for a second wondered who the technical brain behind all of this was, before realizing it must be Rio. What else would they need a small kid with noodle-arms for? The three men on the floor did as they were told. "Take off your shoes too, por favor.", ordered Andrés and watched Tokyo and Helsinki leave with their belongings. Martín assumed they'd now either plant a microphone or a camera or both in one of the officer's items. "No, lie down. On the floor.", ordered Berlin and Martín could basically sense him smirking behind his mask as they obeyed. "That's it. Like roaches.", chuckled Palermo as Rio ran some kind of tracking device over them. As he did, Andrés checked if Tokyo and Helsinki were ready and because they were, he asked the three of them to get on their feet again. "Put your shoes on.", ordered Martín, playing along with Andrés’ lead as ordered. Tokyo came back and handed the officer his now tampered with glasses back. "You'll need those.", she said.   
"Okay. Welcome. Take your things and come with me.", explained Berlin. "Gracias.", said the grey-haired cop. Martín hoped everything worked out, that Sergio could hear them. Andrés led the surgeons to Arturo.

Everything is going to plan.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd really appreciate Feedback! <33


End file.
